Back to the Old Kingdom
by crazybeagle
Summary: What if, three weeks after Orannis is bound, Nick Sayre finds himself confined against his will in an asylum in Corvere? And what if he has a cousin who is just crazy enough to help him escape and find his way back to the Old Kingdom?
1. Chapter 1

Back To The Old Kingdom

Chapter 1

"How are you feeling, Nicholas?" the nurse asked me, sounding concerned. Again.

"Fine," I told her, half smiling._ Angry_, I wanted to say. _Betrayed, really. And you?_

"Alright," she said doubtfully, a little pucker between her eyebrows as she stared at me.

I didn't blame her for staring. I'd stare, too. I was still in pretty bad shape. It had been less than a month since Lirael's dog had called me back from the rivers of death. And it showed.

I was pale and much too thin, almost skeletal. There were still deep circles under my eyes. I still looked much the same as I had that day…

I watched the nurse's eyes as they followed the long, deep black bruises that ran down the length of my arm visible over the rolled up sleeve of my pajamas to the half-healed hole in the tip of my index finger: the path the Destroyer had taken when it left my heart to rejoin the hemispheres. The bruises should have faded at least a little by now, but they hadn't.

This particular nurse was always astonished when she saw me. While the other nurses always looked on me with condescending pity, this nurse, June, I think her name was, always looked shocked and almost fearful whenever she was near me. June's eyes flickered to my face. I knew what she was looking at: the Charter Mark on my forehead between my glasses and limp hair. It was a vivid silver and glittering in the harsh fluorescent bulbs overhead. Sam had told me that this was an indication of a brand-new Charter Mark. He had said it was strange, though, that mine was still silver, as it was only supposed to fade to gray only minutes after a baptism. Whatever color it was, I was fairly certain that its power would be dormant, as I was now hundreds of miles from the Wall.

I let her stare. Why wouldn't she? I was pretty much a freak of nature, and she knew it. As much as my family had tried to keep it confidential, it was now commonly held knowledge throughout Corvere that Nicholas Sayre, the nephew of the Chief Minister of Ancelsteirre of all people, had gone on a scientific expedition to the Old Kingdom and had returned months later half-dead and insane. Worse were the circulating tales of the horrible monster that had killed most of the crew at Forwin Mill. Few of them had survived the Destroyer, but those who had made it back alive, as well as the few Southerlings who had not left Ancelstierre, all had different stories about it that became more and more outrageous as they became the local, and even national, gossip. Of course, none of them knew the whole story.

Even June couldn't possibly know, for all that she looked so astonished. Maybe she could sense the Free Magic running rampant inside my body, taste its metallic acidity in the air.

But she couldn't know that I had nearly helped that monster wipe out the entire human race…and died, knowing that everyone was doomed because of me…

June soon realized that I knew she was staring and quickly dropped her eyes, blushing. She cleared her throat, as if to change the subject, and then said, with rather forced cheer, "Well, I see you're up and about! That's good." I shrugged. If by "up and about" she meant that I was slumped over in a chair instead of in my bed…

She went about her usual routine, checking my temperature, pulse, and blood pressure, all the while not meeting my eyes. When she had deemed that all was well, or at least, that nothing had changed, she got up to leave, casting me one final glance. I watched as the usual emotions flashed across her face: shock, fear, a bit of sympathy. Then she did something very strange: her hand suddenly flew to her forehead and her eyes screwed shut. I was about to ask her if she was alright when she removed her hand, shuddered slightly, turned on her heel and left my room, slamming the door behind her.

I got up, sat at the foot of my bed, and put my head in my hands, suddenly feeling nauseated. This tended to happen a lot, and it was one of the reasons I was basically bedridden.

I vaguely wondered about June's reaction, but I didn't pursue the thought very far. I knew exactly to what destructive ends my own curiosity could lead me…and had once lead me.

I decided to resume my usual pastime: lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Thinking…I had far too much time to think. There wasn't much else for a bedridden patient at Saint Bartleby's Institution for the Mentally Impaired to do all day.

In my mind, I had relived it all several times already. Everything that had happened had been a hazy blur to me at the time, but almost immediately after the Destroyer had left me I had begun to remember things more clearing. Certain events were clearer than others…the day on the hillside with the cricket team, me trying to keep Sam safe while a line of lifeless bodies marched steadily toward us all…The day I met the charming but eccentrically dressed Hedge, and naively trusted his every word…Feeling horribly triumphant as I watched the hordes of blue-clad corpses raise the second of the two hemispheres…Lying in a boat, staring up at Lirael and fighting not to give into the Destroyer…Lightning, striking, burning and murdering…Sam, his palms on my chest, desperately trying to force healing Marks into my broken body…Standing alone in the cold river…

I almost smiled. Recurring horrific images…maybe I was worthy of the sign that hung on the foot of my bed after all:

Nicholas Sayre, age 19.

Post-Traumatic Stress, Various Other Illnesses.

Post-traumatic stress. So that's what they called it. Uncle's and Father's excuse for one of the most despicable cover-ups in Ancelsteirreian history.

About "various illnesses", however, they were correct, or, almost correct. It was one illness, really. Free Magic. The residual effects of the Destroyer upon a human body. The doctors didn't know that, of course. They could tell I was ill by just looking at me, in addition to the facts that I had virtually no energy and I could hardly walk. But they couldn't figure it out: besides some bad bruising and a slightly weakened heart, they couldn't pinpoint any specific problems, and I didn't think that they were allowed to use the terms "emaciated" or "dead-looking" as official terms of diagnosis on my medical reports. A lot of their equipment actually started malfunctioning during my examinations. Apparently I owed the Corvere General Hospital a new x-ray machine. Another reason I supposed that they had trouble with my diagnosis was my failure to sufficiently answer the two most vital questions in the field of medicine: "What happened?" and "What hurts?" _Everything hurts, thank you, and if I told you what happened, you wouldn't believe me._ SoI had pretended to be too incapacitated to properly answer them.

Then had come the IVs, morphine, and various other tubes, wires, and difficult-to-pronounce medications. That was loads of fun, especially because the doctors had no idea what they were trying to treat me for. That all lasted for a week or so before they realized that I wasn't enjoying all the pointless drugs in my system.

And now I was confined to this clean little room with whitewashed walls, with nothing to look forward to but chicken soup and getting my blood pressure taken.

And then there were the psychiatrists. Or rather, _the_ psychiatrist, _my_ psychiatrist. It was no surprise to me that a certain "Dr. Henry Baldwin, PhD" was the only one who ever visited me, and that all he ever did during these interviews was try to find sneaky ways to press me for information on the Old Kingdom. I had no doubt that Baldwin was a part of Ancelsteirre's intelligence departments, probably D-13. This infuriated me: it was rather rash of Uncle to ship me off to an asylum while I was sleeping and then expect me to feed him information about my friends, and about a series of events that he knew had nearly killed me. During these sessions, I usually refused to speak at all.

By now, I was exceptionally nauseous. I followed the cracks in the ceiling with my eyes and took several deep breaths, willing myself not to vomit. Eventually, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of faint voices outside my room. It sounded like a half-whispered argument.

"…still too unstable," Baldwin was saying.

"It shouldn't matter. It's his family," June whispered back.

"I really don't think we should interfere with…" Baldwin began.

"I'd like to see my cousin now, please," a third voice interrupted, clearly annoyed.

"Surely his own family has the right to visit him," another nurse interjected.

"I concur," said the new voice with finality. Baldwin muttered something indistinguishable, and a few seconds later my door opened.

In came the second nurse, followed by an annoyed Baldwin and a short man wearing a baggy trench coat and a hat that obscured his face. June lingered in the doorway, watching the scene with calculating eyes.

"Nicholas?" the nurse asked me tentatively. "You have a visitor," she said, gesturing toward the man, who inclined his head.

"He claims he's your cousin," Baldwin said acidly, shooting him a nasty look.

"That's right," said the man curtly. "Now, if we might have a few minutes alone?" he asked June, who was the head of the ward.

June struggled with this for a moment. Typically, unsupervised visitations were not permitted. But apparently a desire to spite Baldwin got the better of her, and she nodded once, gesturing for everyone to leave the room and shutting the door behind her.

I looked at the man from where I sat, propped up by the raised front end of my bed, "Hello," I said slowly. "I'm sorry, but would you mind telling me who-"

The man chuckled, and then removed his hat. My jaw dropped. "Anna?" I gasped.

Anna Sayre's long, strawberry blonde hair was twisted into a tangled knot at the back of her head. Her ivory, pointed face broke into a smile when she saw my expression.

"Devious, aren't I?" she asked, her eyes dancing behind her glasses.

I couldn't think of a way to say it politely: "Why are you here?"

"I came to find out why _you're_ here," Anna said, her smile fading and her eyes widening as she got a better look at me. "You look like someone broke you and didn't put you back together right."

I shrugged. "You could say that."

She glared at me. "What happened to you, Nick?"


	2. Chapter 2

Back to the Old Kingdom

Chapter 2

Author's note: Hope you all like it so far! There's some language in this chapter so please don't be offended. –crazybeagle

"Wait..." I said. "Why are you here, really? Haven't you already heard what's happened?" Of course she would have heard word from Uncle or my parents by now, word of the "official" story.

Anna snorted. "Do you think I believed that rubbish for one minute? Do you know what Uncle's been telling people?"

"Do I want to know?"

Anna shook her head, then glanced behind her at the door. "Can anyone hear us?"

I shrugged, then winced. It hurt to shrug. "I doubt it. This is an asylum, so naturally the walls and doors are nice and thick."

She nodded, but she dropped her voice. "Apparently, your crew dug up some live detonators at Forwin Mill, detonators that the military had no record of."

Of course. I had expected something like that. "And?"

"And they went off, and most of the workers and some of the army who was patrolling nearby got blown up, and you, my friend, ended up with 'extensive physical and psychological damage', as Uncle puts it."

I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic."

"So back to my original question, Nick. What the hell happened to you?"

"Why do you want to know?" I asked her. "Even if you suspected that Uncle's been lying, is the truth really so important to you that you would travel 200 miles from home, disguise yourself, and sneak into a high-security institution, just to ask me?"

I was genuinely confused. Anna and I had always been on good terms, but we weren't very close, as our families were decidedly unfriendly toward one another. Anna was seventeen and was the adopted daughter of my father's youngest brother and his wife. This meant that, according to the legal documents at least, Anna was the niece of the Chief Minister, a Sayre through and through. But according to Uncle Edward, and of course to Father and Mother, Anna, her parents, and her two older brothers were the black sheep of the Sayre family. They lived several miles north of Bain, and, to the chagrin of Uncle and the rest of the Sayres, Uncle Evan and Aunt Mae were schoolteachers with no political ambition whatsoever. Worse than that, in Uncle's mind, though he'd never say as much, was the fact that Aunt Mae, being a northerner, bore a Charter mark, as did her three children. But the worst transgression that they had committed in the rest of the family's eyes, though none would admit it outright, was adopting Anna. Anna's existence was hardly acknowledged at all by the rest of the Sayres, but I had heard one of my aunts several years ago at a dinner party, after she had had a bit too much brandy, giggling and explaining to my mother that Anna was the "bastard brat of a Perimeter guard". Whether this was true or not, it had never bothered me, and, as I had found during the few visits that her family had made to our estates or to Uncle's home in Corvere, I was quite fond of Anna and her brothers, though I didn't know them well. And her parents' lack of political aspirations hadn't particularly bothered me either, because I myself had always wanted to be a scientist and was bored to tears by politics. Even so, I had no idea why Anna should be here now.

She sighed. "Well honestly, Nick, aside from Mum and Dad and Ryan and Michael, you're the only Sayre I give a damn about. And if you repeat that to my brothers, I will personally kill you."

To my great embarrassment, I felt my cheeks flush, and I promptly looked down. "Uh…thanks," I mumbled, and fished for a change of subject. "But that still doesn't explain…"

"And," she continued, "You are also the last person I know who ought to tamper with Charter Magic," she stared pointedly at my forehead, "or Free Magic."

"How did you know about that?" I asked. "Any of it?"

"Everyone with a Charter Mark in the northern half of Ancelsteirre knows it, Nick. Whatever caused that explosion at the mill that day sent out this…sickening…shock wave of pure Free Magic that everyone, including me, for miles around could feel, followed by this horrible voice that sounded like it was saying, 'Free!'"

I shuddered involuntarily and nodded. I remembered _that_ all too well.

"And also," she added, "we may be really far from the Wall, but I can definitely sense Free Magic inside of you. I almost turned around and walked right back out of here when I first saw you, until I felt Charter Magic also. You have some explaining to do."

"Okay," I said slowly, "but I seriously doubt you'll believe everything-"

"Try me," she said flatly.

"But if I tell you," I added, looking her in the eye, "and for argument's sake let's say you _do_ believe me, what will you do next? Are you just going to leave me here? Or are you going to somehow convince them that I'm not insane? Because if you attempt _that_, I assure you that you'll end up stuck here, too."

Anna closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. Then she looked at me with an expression of quickly-diminishing patience. "You'd better tell me what happened, or I'm not helping you escape."

I blinked. "What?"

"Yeah. That's why I'm here."

"To help me escape?"

"Uh-huh."

I didn't really know what to say to her. "Uhm…how do you intend to do that?"

"I don't know yet," she admitted. "So why don't you tell me tell me what happened, and then we'll figure something out. You know, collaboratively."

"You're joking."

"Nope," she said cheerfully.

While I was greatly surprised that she, or anyone else on this side of the Wall, for that matter, would care enough to even consider helping me escape, she would get in federal trouble for trying it, and I wouldn't allow that.

"Anna," I said firmly. It was difficult to tell her off with any sort of authority when I was the one in bed. "I'm not going to let you get arrested because of me. I'm staying here."

She smiled devilishly. "Oh, I'm not supposed to take no for an answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, I'm going out on a limb here, but by the look of you, you've had all of that 'logical scientific explanation' nonsense beaten out of you, so I'm just going to tell you this and assume that you won't think I'm crazy." She waited for me to say something, and when I didn't, she continued. "Alright, right after I heard about…you, I had a dream."

"About what?"

"About a dog."

Well, she had my attention.

"Only…it wasn't a dog…I mean, it was _sort of_ dog. It _looked_ like a dog, like a big brown-and-black Great Dane or Rottweiler or something. Except…and here's why I think it was more than a dream…this thing was just radiating Charter Magic, and it was sort of like…well, I don't know how much of this you'd understand, but it was like it was made out of the Charter itself, and it felt really ancient and powerful."

She definitely had my attention.

Anna looked a little uncomfortable. "…And it…well, _she_, at least, I think it was a she, sort of talked. To me." She looked at me uncertainly, as if expecting doubt or ridicule. She relaxed a little when she saw that I was listening.

"Go on," I prompted. "What did she say?"

"She said that she knew I wanted to go after you, and that it was in my nature to do such things. She told me I'd better hurry up and do it, because you weren't enjoying your, ah, _stay_ in Corvere. And then she prattled on for awhile about destiny, and about how I'd find mine if I helped you get to where you needed to be. And she said something about a _prince_ that she thinks I ought to meet. Do you know any princes?" She giggled, and then shrugged. "Well anyway, that was that. I stole Ryan's passport and took the train, and now I'm here."

Well, there wasn't any other way that Anna would know about the Dog or about Sam unless she was telling the truth.

"_And_, this dog told me to give _you_ a message." Anna smiled when she saw my eyes widen. "She says that the Disreputable Dog sends her love, although she isn't pleased with you for not going back with your friends. She says you're tampering with fate." She laughed at my expression, which was probably a guilty one, and then continued. "She says you'd better cooperate with me, or she'll be even more upset with you. And I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want something that powerful upset with _me_, Nick."

Silence followed her words, and then, abruptly, a _bark_. Out of nowhere. We both jumped. Suddenly I felt a sharp jolt of heat that I was sure came from my Charter Mark. By the look of it, the same happened to Anna. Even after it faded, I still felt a warm buzz emanating from my forehead. More silence followed, broken only by heavy breathing on both our parts.

"Well," I said eventually. "I suppose this changes things."


	3. Chapter 3

Back to the Old Kingdom

Chapter 3

[Author's note: …Aaaand cue the melodrama. Hope you guys like it! Read and review!–crazybeagle]

"Wow," Anna breathed. "Now, I think, would be a good time to start talking."

"Agreed," I said, blatantly going against all my better judgment. But what else could I do?

So I talked, and talked, and talked. I hadn't done this before: tell my whole story, all the way through. Anna was a very good audience, and it helped that, being a Northerner, she knew more about the Old Kingdom than I thought. She didn't need me to explain any of the concepts that I was still struggling to wrap my head around, like the Charter, or the Rivers, or even the Abhorsen. I was a little unnerved by her knowledge of these things, but at least it meant I could talk without much interruption.

I had to start by describing the Destroyer, something I really didn't know much about, at least in Old Kingdom terms. I knew only that it was something of a god in the Old Kingdom, an evil one, and that it had been bound by the other gods long ago. I had only heard the gist of it from Sam and his parents, and I didn't know the specifics, but I knew, probably better than anyone, the nature of the thing. I wasn't sure why, but just talking about the Destroyer made my chest and arm ache terribly.

And then I described exactly what all this had to do with all of the petty Ancelsteirrean political factions, and Corolini, and the Southerlings. Anna hadn't seemed particularly surprised when I described how Hedge had been using Corolini to round up and execute the Southerlings, but she'd looked horrified and disgusted, and there had been angry tears in her eyes.

I found it hard to talk about Hedge at all. It had taken an enormous amount of self-restraint to keep my voice from getting frantic when I mentioned him. Hedge was dead, sent irrevocably past the final gate. I knew that; Lirael had seen to it. But I was still afraid of him.

Anna seemed particularly interested in what I had to say about both Sam and Lirael. Her eyes lit up when I described Sam, and I had my suspicions that this was due to the fact that I did, in fact, know a prince. Needless to say, she asked a lot of questions about Sam.

She must have heard something in my voice or seen the expression on my face when I spoke of Lirael, because she had a little smirk on her face every time I mentioned her. I don't know what she saw, tenderness, maybe, but at any rate I wasn't surprised. It was Lirael and the promise I had made to her that had given me the strength to put up any sort of fight against the overwhelming force of the Destroyer. Even now she was constantly on my mind. I knew what she had done to defeat the Destroyer, what she had been willing to give up to protect everyone, the pain she had endured and the life she had almost given. It was incredible to me. I just hoped that she had forgiven me for failing her, for making her sacrifice necessary. I wouldn't blame her if she hadn't.

When I explained what had actually happened to me, Anna's face was solemn, her eyes unreadable. I hoped this meant she believed me. It felt a little silly describing it all in my present surroundings: this little room in the huge, noisy city of Corvere seemed a world away from Edge, or the Red Lake, or even Forwin Mill, which was on this side of the Wall. As I recounted it out loud, the words seemed strange to me, as if I was describing an elaborate, and unbelievable, nightmare. Anna had seemed willing enough to believe me at first, and I hoped fervently that willingness would hold, especially when I sounded so ridiculous to myself. But even so, the surreal tone of my story made it easier for me to tell it, because it felt as though these things had happened to someone else, and I was merely a third-party observer.

When I reached the portion of the story that was the most difficult to explain, and the portion Anna was least likely to believe, I hesitated. Anna snapped out of her reverie and looked at me, confused. "Why'd you stop? What's wrong?"

"Remember when I said you wouldn't believe everything I-"

"Oh, come off it, Nick. Just keep going."

"Alright then…" I said dubiously.

"So what happened next?"

"Uhm…"

"Just say it."

"I…uh…died."

"You what?"

"Died. A few minutes after the Destroyer left me."

"But if…then how…you can't be a…" she stammered, looking scared.

"No, it's not like that," I assured her. "I'm not one of the Dead. I'm alive, and I'm still me."

"How?" she asked. "Did the Abhorsen bring you back?"

"No. I don't think that Sabriel or Lirael would have done it, even if they could, because it's against the rules." I knew little about what an Abhorsen actually _did_, but I knew that the basic idea was to make sure that those who died stayed dead.

She looked more upset than before. "How- no, you couldn't have _died_!"

"I did. Remember the Dog? I don't know what she is, exactly, but she found me in the River and sent me back."

Her eyes were huge. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. That's why I have the Charter Mark. She said she gave it to me to preserve my spirit or something, and to balance out any residual Free Magic in me. And then she barked, and started pushing me back towards Life."

"And you just…woke up?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "I believe you. You aren't creative enough to come up with any of this on your own, even if you were insane or delusional. You're too left-brained." She smiled wryly, then asked, "What was it like?"

Surprised by the question, I said, "Oh. Uhm, which part? Dying, the River, or waking up?" I was confused: I thought Anna would have been more interested in how the Destroyer was defeated than in my rather unpleasant recollections of death.

"All of it," she said. She looked vitally interested.

"Er…well, it was pretty painful," I began lamely.

"I'm sure it was, genius. Be more specific," she snapped. And then, as if realizing she'd been rude, she bit her lip and looked down. "Never mind. It's okay, you know, if you don't want to talk about it. It's just…_wow_."

"No, it's alright," I told her. "It's not an experience I'd care to repeat in the near future, but I don't mind talking about it. So, where were we?"

"The talking cat," Anna prompted.

"Right. Well, like I said, by then I was too overwhelmed to feel really amazed that the cat was talking to me, but I was more than a bit surprised when it turned into the little albino man and when it picked me up and ran off with me. By then I could tell that the hemispheres were going to join whether I liked it or not. And part of me _did_ like it, very much. So the cat thing- Sam said it's a servant of the Abhorsens- ran as far as it could with me away from the mill, dodging the lightning that was hitting the rods and the slope. And it was then that the shard started to leave my heart. I guess it wasn't strong enough to just burst out, so it used my arteries and came out through my finger."

Anna winced. "Sounds painful."

I nodded. "Exceedingly. That was probably the worst part. Anyway, I must have fainted after that, and when I woke up, it was- well, it was much better because the thing was out of me and I could finally think straight, and it was bad because I was dying and acutely aware of it, and it was much worse because the Destroyer was free and it was my fault." My voice cracked. This was harder than I'd anticipated. Anna put her small hand on mine, and I took a deep breath before continuing. "So…I think Sam woke me up. He was trying to heal me with Charter spells, but they wouldn't work. There were just a lot of blue sparks every time he tried." I vividly remembered the look on his face when he realized he couldn't help me. I never wanted to see that look on his or anyone else's face again. "I told him what happened that day with Hedge in the sunken road"-and apologized for everything, which had been difficult, as I'd been choking on my own blood-"and then I noticed that Lirael was there, and she was in Death. I found out later that she defeated Hedge there, and that she was using whatever special power she has to see how the Destroyer was originally bound. Well, she came back a few seconds later, and she told Sam that she knew what to do to stop it and that she needed his help. But Sam was a bit preoccupied with…me, and Lirael said there was no time, and I told him to listen to her, and that's when I died." At this point, I had to stop again and take several deep breaths before continuing. I felt tears threatening to leak out, and I shut my eyes. I didn't want Anna to feel guilty for having asked me about this, but I hadn't thought it would be so difficult for me.

Thankfully, she'd been staring fixedly at the floor. "Did it hurt?" she asked quietly.

I cleared my throat. "Well, no. Not the actual dying part. It was sort of like falling asleep."

"And the river?" her voice was barely a whisper.

"Really cold. That's mostly what I remember about it. And it was big, and empty, and gray. Kind of restful. I would have gone with the current, but I guess my Charter Mark was holding me back. That's when the Dog found me, and she told me that the Destroyer was bound again, and that everyone was alright, except that Lirael lost her hand. And she explained about the Charter Mark, and sent me back."

"Incredible," she murmured. She looked at me and smiled a little. "What was it like to wake up?"

"Wonderful," I said truthfully. "It was all over. And it was nice to not be dead." Not that I hadn't been in pain, but pain had been the last thing on my mind at the time.

"What happened next?" she asked. "And how did they get rid of the Destroyer?"

I told her, lost in my own memories as I talked…

[Author's note: the next chapter is going to be a narrative account, still Nick's POV, of what happened immediately following the Destroyer's defeat. Something Mr. Nix never gave us, unfortunately….It'll be a memory (and italicized), not Nick's spoken explanation and Anna's response like before. But in order to write it, I'm going to have to re-read some large portions of "Abhorsen", and not just the portions concerning Nick. I'll update as soon as I can! Thank you to my readers and reviewers. Merry Christmas! –crazybeagle]


	4. Chapter 4

Back to the Old Kingdom

Chapter 4

[Author's note: the italicized section is what Nick is remembering and not what necessarily what he's telling Anna. Thanks for reading! –crazybeagle]

_Waking up was like falling off a cliff, with all of the shock, and all the pain, of the landing impact. It was almost as bad as the pain I'd felt right before I died; almost, but not quite. But first and foremost in my mind was the great surprise- and joy- in the fact that I was alive. The Destroyer was gone, and I was alive. These two resonating truths made the pain manageable. Annoying, but manageable. _

_The first thing I saw was sunshine. Real sunshine, for the first time in what felt like three lifetimes, breaking through the dispersing cloud cover. I drank it in. Then, curious about my surroundings, I groaned and sat up. I'd been lying on a diamond-shaped patch of ground, the only untouched space in a vast expanse of ravaged wasteland. I knew instinctively that this had been caused by the Destroyer. _

_Not far from me, I could see soldiers making their way carefully making their way across the desolation. They were followed by a large group dressed in blue that I knew to be Southerlings. _

_Suddenly, something appeared near my feet. A little white something. I recognized it as the talking cat. The cat made a little "hmph"ing noise, glared at me, and then said in a rather sarcastic voice, "I might have known." Before I could respond, it turned and started padding its way north, chuckling softly as it went. _

_I looked after it, and I noticed six people in the distance, six people who appeared to be supporting a seventh, staggering figure. I sighed in relief; I recognized this group. It was all I could manage to stand up and halfheartedly wave, knowing I'd have to let them come to me. A wave of the pain I'd been suppressing emanated from my chest, and it almost drove me to my knees. But it didn't, and as I looked up to see the startled response I'd aroused from the figures in the distance, I vaguely wondered what the future had in store for me, knowing that whatever it held was bound to be far brighter than the past. I smiled. _

_Then I looked again at the group of soldiers, who had also seen me, and I stopped smiling. There were a few shouts of surprise and what sounded like a few hastily barked orders, and three of the soldiers broke off from the main group and headed right for me, sword-bayonets raised. _

_I realized that they must think I was something Dead. I remembered that when I'd died there had been some soldiers there…If I were them, I'd draw the same conclusion. As they came closer, I stopped waving and stood very still, hoping that Sam's group would get to me before the soldiers did. Getting impaled on a bayonet didn't quite seem fair when I'd only come back from Death two minutes ago. _

_Luckily, the other group quickly became aware of my predicament. "Nick?" I heard Sam call. He and one of the others- it looked like Sabriel- started running toward me. _Hurry, please,_ I thought as I watched the soldiers advance. Another wave of pain came, and this one did drive me to my knees. It was getting harder to suppress it, and, while I didn't think it was very likely that I'd die again, I knew I needed help. _

_Seconds later, I felt something cold and sharp touch my throat, and I looked up into the face of a young soldier, a lieutenant who looked to be around my own age. He looked very tired, but his expression was hard. _

_"No, it's alright," I told him quickly. "I'm not a-"_

_"It's all right, Lieutenant," called Sabriel, who trotted up and stood beside me, Sam still several yards behind her. "He's not one of the Dead. I can tell." She looked down at me with a confused expression. "But I'll admit I have no idea…"_

_"It's me," I assured both of them. "Nicholas Sayre. It's a little difficult to explain, but I promise it's me and I'm alive." The soldier did not lower his bayonet, but Sabriel swiftly bent down and touched my forehead. A bright light flared there. I blinked._

_"Incredible", Sabriel whispered, then turned to the lieutenant and said, "You can lower your weapon. He speaks the truth." He lowered the bayonet, inclined his head toward Sabriel, then turned toward the main group of soldiers. He made a hand signal that I assumed meant that all was well, and walked away with his companions. _

_"Lirael's dog found me and sent me back," I explained, and then I put my hand on my chest and clenched my jaw as the pain flared again._

_Sam ran up to us and knelt on my other side. He looked slightly dazed and completely exhausted. Dust and ash clung to his hair and clothing, and I realized that Sabriel too was coated in the same dusty layer. _

_"H-how are you alive? " Sam stammered. "I saw you…you died. I felt it."_

_Sabriel grinned. "He can explain later. Suffice it to say that a dear friend of Lirael's tipped the scales in his favor." I smiled weakly and nodded in agreement. _

_"You're still hurt, though, aren't you?" Sam asked, his tired eyes worried. _

_"Certainly feels like it," I said through my teeth as the pain threatened to overtake me again. _

_"We'll see what we can do," Sabriel said, "but first he could use some rest." Immediately she began to draw what I now knew were called Charter marks with her fingers in the air. "Sleep now, Nicholas," she told me gently, and she placed her palm on my shoulder. I watched as the glowing symbols followed her hand and bounced off my shoulder in a flurry of blue sparks._

_"Why isn't it working?" Sabriel asked urgently. Her voice sounded distant to me, and I was dimly aware that the pain was sending me into shock._

_"Free Magic," I heard Sam reply grimly. "Let me try…" _

_I passed out before he'd even begun to form the marks._

_***_

_It was dark when I woke. I saw what I presumed to be candlelight bouncing off a canvas ceiling. Glancing around, I realized I was in a tent lying on a cot. I tried to sit up and get a better look at my surroundings, but I couldn't. When I'd only gotten my head and shoulders off the pillow, agony seared through my chest and I immediately felt dizzy, so I lay back down, panting, still not knowing where I was. Instinctively I reached out with my left arm, as I couldn't move my right arm without more pain, and felt around for my glasses, which were no longer on my face. My fingers found them, and I saw that they were on a crate that was pushed up next to the cot. Someone had repaired them: the lenses had both been cracked and the frames rusted while I'd been in the Old Kingdom. I put them on with my left hand and tried to get a better look around. Even with the candlelight, it was still fairly dark in here, and, though I could make out a few other cots in the tent, I couldn't tell who was sleeping in them._

_My chest and arm felt warm, and I looked down at myself. My shirt was gone, and I saw that all the bruises were covered in some sort of salve that was around the same consistency as petroleum jelly. The stuff was swimming with Charter marks, and blue sparks, which I'd figured by now were coming out of my body, interrupted the swirling golden patterns in several places. Occasionally, I saw one of the marks seep into my skin, but more often the sparks would repel them. Even though I suspected the salve wasn't working as well as it should be, it did ease the pain. As long as I didn't get up. _

_A few minutes later, I heard the rustle of canvas and quiet footsteps, and someone sat down on the crate next to my cot. I looked up and saw a dark-haired girl smiling back at me. I knew who she must be, though I'd never officially met her before. "Hello there," she said brightly. _

_"Hello," I replied. "You're Ellimere, right? Sam's sister."_

_"Yes, that's me. Pleased to meet you, Nicholas."_

_"Please to meet you too," I said a little uncomfortably, fully aware that I was trying to introduce myself to a lady while lying in bed shirtless. That was about as un-Sayre-ish as it got. _

_"Although, of course," she continued, "I wish we'd met under better circumstances. I was sent to check on you and Lirael." _

_"Lirael's here?" I asked._

_"Right over there," she said, pointing to one of the corners of the tent. "She's asleep, and I thought you would be, too."_

_"Why? How long has it been?"_

_"About a day and a half since the Destroyer was bound. It's almost midnight now. We're still outside the mill, in case you were wondering." _

_"She's been asleep that long?" I asked, alarmed. "And what about Sam? Is he all right?" _

_"Calm down," she said, looking slightly amused. "Everything's fine. Lirael lost her hand when she defeated Orannis and had a nasty wound from her fight with Hedge, but she's been cared for and she's recovering. And Sam is fine. He's with Mother and Father right now, helping to sort things out with the army and the Southerlings. Actually, it's you that we're the most worried about, because all that Free Magic in you is making you hard to heal."_

_"Er…what's Free Magic?" I asked, feeling like a complete idiot._

_She smacked her forehead. "Damn. I forgot. You're from Ancelsteirre."_

_"I'm sorry…" I began._

_She sighed. "It's not your fault. But you won't understand a thing I tell you about the Destroyer unless I explain some things to you. I ought to let you get some rest, though, or let you eat something…"_

_"No, go ahead," I told her. I knew myself well enough to know that I wasn't going to be remotely interested in sleep or food until I'd gotten some answers. _

_"Alright," she said. "I suppose I should begin with Old Kingdom 101, then…"_

_[Author's note: this whole "memory" section is too big to fit into one chapter, but by chapter 6 we'll be back to the present with Nick and Anna.] _


	5. Chapter 5

Back to the Old Kingdom Chapter 5

_I supposed I'd gotten what I'd asked for. Ellimere's long-winded explanation left my head reeling. Sam had never explained any of this when I'd asked him about the Old Kingdom, but in retrospect I realized I wouldn't have believed him anyway._

_Even now, my scientifically-wired brain instinctively wanted to reject the strange things she was telling me, about Dead Hands, and the Rivers, and the Charter, and magical bells. But I'd seen enough and done enough to know that it was all true. It was a curious thing, lying there while all my perceptions of reality were irrevocably altered. The Old Kingdom was an alien universe, one that I could hardly believe was Ancelsteirre's closest neighbor, a land where magic was a part of everyday life and death was not what it seemed. It was a world I should never have tampered with. I had underestimated forces that I didn't understand, and I'd unwittingly unleashed something terrible on everybody. This became painfully clear when she described what the Destroyer actually was, and the full realization of what I'd almost done sunk in. I was horrified. _

_Ellimere explained who Lirael was, (and her real age, which she'd lied about), and why she had left the Clayr's Glacier in the first place. It was unnerving that the Clayr had Seen me in a vision, and that it had been Lirael's appointed mission to fix the problem I'd created. And she told me about Hedge and Corolini, the Southerlings, Chlorr of the Mask (whom I was very glad to have never encountered), and quite a few other things that I wasn't sure I'd remember. The spasms of pain were returning, making it harder to concentrate, but I tried not to let it show so that Ellimere would keep talking. I hoped she didn't notice my shallow breathing or my hand clutching the blanket. _

_Her account of the Destroyer's defeat was very confusing, but it involved a renegade group of Perimeter guards having to hold off a small army of Dead, Sam somehow making a sword out of magic and panpipes, and a complex binding spell that involved eight people, seven bells, Lirael's dog and the talking cat. I felt a dull blow to the stomach when I heard what Lirael had done to bind the Destroyer, and how she'd known it would kill her. She was now without her hand and the Dog, which had been her best friend. _It's your fault_, a voice in my head kept repeating, and I knew it was true. _

_When she finished, she asked me, "So, Mother says the Dog sent you back?" _

"_Yes." I told her, and I recounted what the Dog told me. Ellimere looked surprised and delighted. _

"_You should tell Lirael. That will make her feel better."_

"_How is she?" I asked. Ellimere's face became sad._

"_Alright, I suppose. She's woken up a few times, but she's hardly spoken, and she looks so sad…she misses the Dog."_

_I bit my lip. _My fault…

_She studied my face for a moment. "She'll be fine," she said softly. "Given time, she'll be fine." I certainly hoped so. _

"_You're in pain, aren't you?" she asked, looking at my hand, which still had the blanket in a death grip. I nodded reluctantly. She stood up, looking guilty. "I should go. Get some rest, okay?"_

"_Thank you," I called after her as she left. _

_She smiled. "It was nice to meet you. Now please go to sleep." I nodded and closed my eyes._

_***_

_It was daytime when I woke, and I could see the inside of the tent clearly. I noticed an IV tube taped to the inside of my left elbow, and I realized with a bit of irritation that this meant I couldn't move either of my arms. I heard voices, and saw that Sam was in the corner talking to Lirael, who was sitting on the cot with he knees drawn up to her chest. My stomach lurched when I saw the blackened stump at the end of her wrist. _

_Sam noticed I was awake and walked over to me. Both he and Lirael, I noticed, were wearing what looked like army-ration khakis. He raised his eyebrows. "Nick, you know you just about gave me a heart attack." _

_I laughed a little. "Sorry, mate. I won't do it again."_

_He smiled wearily. I realized that it had been nearly a year since I'd actually seen him last. He looked a great deal older, as if he'd gone through several hardships in that time._

_"You look like hell, you know," he said, pointing out the obvious._

_"Yes, I know," I said. "So what's everyone been up to?" _

_"Diplomacy," he replied. "The Ancelsteirrean government isn't too happy about all this. I feel sorry for my parents right now." I winced, knowing exactly what kind of political mayhem this situation was likely causing. _

_"Ellimere's been helping them, of course. She's really good at this sort of thing." He looked amused. "She'll make a great queen someday. Speaking of Ellimere, she told me that she came here and explained things to you last night." _

_"She did," I said. "She told me a lot about the Old Kingdom itself, and then about the Destroyer and how you all bound it." _

_"Well, I bet it was thorough," he laughed, "coming from Ellimere." I nodded. _

_"Oh, by the way," he added. "Your uncle's been contacted, and he wants you home. So do your parents. They know you're hurt, and they're…well, livid." _

_I suppressed a groan. I definitely did not want to deal with my family right now. I could just imagine my father yelling, my mother sobbing and drinking…_

_"But they can't force you. You can come back with us to Belsaere if you want to."_

_Just then, Ellimere poked her head through the tent flap. "Sameth? Mother needs you." _

_He sighed. "I'm coming." He turned to me and Lirael. "I'll be right back. You two talk amongst yourselves." Then he left me alone with her._

_I did not know how to break the awkward silence that ensued. She was staring fixedly at the tent wall, her face shrouded by her ebony hair. What was I supposed to do? Apologize for ruining her life? I had to say something…_

_A few minutes passed and I stayed silent, coward that I was, and then she spoke. "I'm glad that you're all right," she said quietly, attempting a smile. "Or, um, that you will be," she amended. Her beautiful face looked haunted, her eyes empty. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the IV tube. "They gave me one, too." _

_"It's an IV," I told her, trying to sound conversational. "They feed you or give you medicine through it." I was probably getting both._

_"Oh. That makes sense." She was looking at the tent wall again, and I wondered how much she must hate me. She wouldn't even look at me. More silence. _

"_Uh, I talked to your Dog, you know. Right before I came back."_

_Immediately she turned back to me, her face desperate. "Sam told me that. What did- what did she say?" _

_I told her, hoping that Ellimere was right and that this would help. As she listened, tears welled up in her eyes and she bit her lip. Great. I'd made her cry. _

_When I finished, she quickly brushed away her streaming tears and let her hair fall into her face once again. "I'm glad she sent you back," she whispered. I wanted more than anything to believe she meant that, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as she said the words. _

I'm sorry, _I wanted to say more than anything. _You don't deserve this….

_The tent flap opened again, and Sam came back in. "Hey, you're both…um, needed. Lirael, Mother wants to see you, and Nick…well, the government wants proof that you're alive and that we didn't abduct you. Lirael?" he asked again. "Are you alright?"_

_She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then stood up, her face calm and pleasant, all traces of her pain gone or hidden deep. "Yes. I'm coming." She walked briskly out of the tent._

_Sam helped me sit up. "They're coming here to question you," he told me as he helped me put on the same army uniform he was wearing, "but you're in for it. To them, you're just living proof of the government's mistakes." _

_"What have I got to do with the government's mistakes?" _

_"You're proof that they let something dangerous from the Old Kingdom into Ancelsteirre. People will blame your uncle for giving you the permits and the means to do it." _

_"Ah." When I was dressed, Sam leaned me against the tent pole against which the foot of the cot was pushed, so that I could sit up. My sleeve was rolled up for the IV, which he hung from a nail on the pole. " And I suppose that Corolini's leading the Southerlings to their deaths isn't going to help their case, either?" The whole operation had been under the master influence of Hedge and the Destroyer, but for the intents and purposes of the people of Ancelsteirre, it had been Corolini's One-Country party and its influence in the Moot that had caused all of this, and of course Uncle would get the blame for "allowing" Corolini to get so powerful in the first place. _

_"Yes. You know they'll probably smooth everything over with lies and secrecy warrants, but this is sort of a big secret to keep, especially when there are a few thousand witnesses. Mother and Dad didn't actually tell them everything. The ambassador would've had a brain aneurysm if they'd explained the specifics, or anything having to do with the necromancy at all. They basically said that Hedge was influencing Corolini's people so that he could use the Southerlings for his own purposes and kill them afterwards, and that he was deliberately misleading you so that he could acquire and activate a dangerous weapon." _

_"A bit of a simplistic synopsis , but it's for the best," I agreed. _

_"Yeah, but things are still ugly. Obviously they want to blame everything on my parents because they're the rulers of the country that Hedge came from." That was unfair, but unsurprising. _

_"So, they'll be here in a few minutes," he told me. "They're Internal Intelligence officers or something, and they're in a foul mood. Dad warned them not to give you a full-on interrogation because you're tired and hurt, and he said he'll be here to make sure they don't, but they won't make it easy for you." _

_***_

_The next few days passed quickly, mostly because I slept so much. I was questioned a couple of times by different Intelligence agents as well as by Sabriel and Touchstone, though I never got another chance to speak to Lirael. My condition hardly improved in that time, and Sam ran himself ragged trying to figure out how to get a healing-spell to work on me. _

_"I don't understand it!" he cried one day, frustrated after yet another of his spells vanished in a cloud of blue sparks. "I mean, you're alive, and you've got a Charter mark, so there's no reason this should be happening anymore."_

_"So, it's not working at all?" I asked, concerned._

_"Hardly. For every ten marks I give you, only one takes hold. Even when I- you know, tweak the spells a bit, nothing seems to work. You've got Charter magic in there somewhere, otherwise you'd be dead, but it's like there's a barrier or something that keeps the spells out."_

_"A Free Magic barrier, I take it."_

_"Yes, and that's a bit of a problem. It'll take you ages to heal from something like this without Charter spells." _

_"But the painkillers are working, aren't they?" I asked, glancing at the IV tube. True, I was still in a tremendous amount of pain, but I knew it would be worse without the anesthetics. "So normal medicine ought to work, too."_

_Sam looked exasperated and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by his father, who had just stuck his head through the tent flap. "Good, you're awake," he said to me. He strode into the tent. "Well, boys, it looks as though everything has been said and done, and at long last we can all go home. We need to know where you want to go from here, Nicholas. Of course, you can return to your family, and I'm sure they're anxious to see you. Or, as Sam has told you already, you are more than welcome to come back home with us. Sabriel believes it would be best if you accompany us, in light of recent events."_

_"That's kind of you, sir-"or was it "your majesty"?- "but is that possible? I have no permit."_

_"That can easily be taken care of. These Intelligence men may not like it, but the monarchs of the Old Kingdom have more authority than a permit in a matter like this. Ultimately, the choice is yours."_

_***_

Anna stared at me incredulously. "So, you _chose_ not to go back with them?"

"Yes."

"Nick."

"What?"

"You. Are. Such. An. _Idiot!_"


	6. Chapter 6

Back to the Old Kingdom

Chapter 6

"Yes, I realize that. And I know you're dying to tell me exactly why I'm an idiot, so go ahead."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Oh, I will, but first I need to confirm something. How bad is it?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what. How sick are you?" Now I knew I was in for it.

"Well-"

"Don't lie to me," she said quietly, her tone threatening.

It was easier just to show her. I undid the first several buttons of my pajamas so she could see my chest. She gasped, simultaneously looking shocked, disgusted, and angry.

"I rest my case. You are an idiot."

I looked down. It still looked like I'd been beaten mercilessly with a meat mallet. The worst of it was directly over my heart, where the bruises were so black that they looked more like severe burns than bruises. It didn't help that they covered basically the entire area between my collarbone and the bottom of my ribcage.

Anna looked livid, glaring at the floor in a huffy silence. "Anna?" I asked, tentatively. "Anna, please talk to me."

Then she exploded. "Oh, I'll talk!" she shrieked. "Do you have any idea what you've done to yourself?"

"I didn't do it to myself," I said, still vexed by her outburst. "It was-"

"I know _that_." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, what you've done to yourself by coming back!" she cried, gesturing at the room around her. "For starters, this place. Weren't you using your head? Did you really believe that Uncle would leave you alone? Did you think that you could just go home and things would go back to normal?" No, but I'd hoped so. I felt my face get red.

"I thought so." When I didn't say anything, she continued. "_And_, look at yourself. Are you any better than you were?"

"Er- not much," I admitted.

"That's my point. Your injuries aren't natural. They came from Free Magic, so what made you think that drugs and bed rest would heal them?" She now wore a pained expression. "It'll take the Charter to fix you, and I think you know it."

"I know that _now_," I told her, "but wouldn't they have told me if it wasn't okay to leave?"

"It sounds like they were a little preoccupied with trying to keep peace between nations," she reminded me. "But didn't Sam tell you?"

"He said something like that, but the anesthetics were working, plus they did give me the choice to go back, so I assumed-"

"You assumed that you knew better than your friend who is the first Wallmaker there's been in thousands of years, and his mother, who happens to be the Abhorsen. Of course they'd leave it up to you, it isn't like they'd kidnap you! Why didn't you listen to them? You'd be better by now."

I had my reasons for not going back, but none that I wanted to voice while Anna was in such a towering temper. She'd just throw them all back into my face and make me realize how ridiculous they were.

Anna took a few calming breaths, making a vain attempt at patience. "I don't want to be mad at you, because you've obviously been through enough already, but honestly! What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

"I don't know." I'd been thinking lots of things. Like how I'd almost helped annihilate all humanity. How I knew nothing of magic. How I was more than a little traumatized by everything that had occurred and wanted to regain some semblance of normality in my life. How I was too embarrassed to ever talk to Lirael again…

"I don't belong there," I said after awhile.

"What makes you think you belong _here_?" she asked angrily, gesturing at the room again.

"Alright, I get it."

"Good. Now the real trick is going to be getting you out of here. And fast. Before something…happens."

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously, not liking her tone.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Let's just say I'm afraid that if you stay here, one day you're going to go to sleep and not wake up. And not just because you're sick."

"What are you...you're not suggesting that someone would-"

"Let me ask you something, Nick. If you died here, who would care?"

"My parents." Frivolous and shallow though they might be, I was still their son.

"I'm sure they would. But this is a psych ward. Do you think anyone would bother with much of an investigation?"

"No…"

"And let me ask you something else. Uncle had you locked up here because you know things that could get him sacked, right?"

I nodded. I couldn't prove it, of course, but I was pretty sure he'd convinced my parents I was insane and then somehow had me drugged so I wouldn't oppose being shipped off to solitary confinement.

"Wouldn't it be convenient for him if his dear nephew were to meet an 'untimely demise'?"

I started to object, but I realized she was absolutely right. Though I'd tried to convince myself otherwise over the years, his recent betrayal made me realize that there was little else in his heart besides avarice and ambition. He would stop at nothing to ensure that his power was not threatened, and I realized that I could not deem him incapable of murder, especially when it could so easily be dismissed as an unfortunate accident.

Although I was very unnerved, I shook my head and laughed a little. "Why, you little conspiracy theorist."

She shrugged. "That's what my brothers say. I might consider a career in spy work if I didn't hate the government so much."

"And even though you're talking treason, you're right. Actually, I'm a little worried about that. I don't _think _anyone could be eavesdropping on us, but I don't know…"

"Is that one nurse- the one with black hair- in charge of the ward?"

"Yes, that's June," I told her.

"Then I think we're safe. She has a Charter mark. It's hidden under her bangs, but I saw it when she ran a hand through her hair. And because she has a Charter mark, she knows you don't belong here, because she can sense Free Magic in you, like I did."

That would explain her strange behavior toward me. "No one would believe her if she told them."

Anna nodded. "That's true, but I wonder if she could help us. I mean, I've been here for more than two hours, and that's got to be against the rules, but she hasn't interfered. A few more intentional oversights on her part and you could be free."

I was uneasy about the whole thing, and I had no desire to think about a highly illegal escape plan at the moment. I knew I needed to sleep, too; my eyelids were drooping.

Anna noticed, and stood up. "That's enough for today. I'm getting a hotel room and I'll be back tomorrow so we can figure this out. Don't let anyone slip you arsenic while I'm gone."

"I'll do my best." I grinned.

"And be careful around that Baldwin. I don't like the look of him."

"I have been. I'm certain that he's a spy."

"Oh. Well, don't let him bring you your food, then." She smiled cheerily, and left my room.

I just stared at the ceiling again, my head reeling.

***

[Author's note: to be honest, guys, I have no idea how he's going to escape as of yet. I'll think of something (I usually get my best ideas when it's late at night and I'm in the shower) and I'll try to hurry up with it! I've done something similar in a novel I'm working on with my sister, actually: I managed to bust six of my characters out of a high-security, Azkaban-like prison with a complicated plot involving a faked suicide, the outbreak of a deadly disease, and swimming across a bay. It's outrageous and kind of stupid but it worked. So I guess I can think of something here. Peace out!]


	7. Chapter 7

Back to the Old Kingdom

Chapter 7

[Author's note: You'll find out more about Anna's past as the story goes on, so be patient, my chickadees! And thanks plenty to my reviewers: OldLady and Astarel, who are both great writers and whose stories you should all go read, and Cool Cuz, aka my awesome cousin, who is the whole reason I read the Old Kingdom Trilogy in the first place. –crazybeagle]

_Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought. _

Not that I'd expected it to be easy. Or legal, for that matter. I didn't know exactly what sort of story I'd been expecting to hear from him, but this certainly wasn't it.

I kept my head down as I stalked down the endless white hall, wanting to get out of here, and fast. This place disgusted me. There was no ethical standard for the treatment of mental patients in Ancelsteirre or anywhere else, as far as I knew, and I shuddered to think what might be happening behind some of these closed doors. Nick was protected, for now at least, by his name, his injuries, and probably by June, too, but he certainly wouldn't be safe for long, especially if the government got involved.

How on earth was I supposed to get him out of a place like this? Even if I could use the Charter this far south, I'd have my work cut out for me. Huge, solid brick building, loads of doctors and guards running around, and a seriously ill Nicholas…but if I failed, I'd go to jail, and, one way or another, Nick would die.

My eyes scanned the hall. _Come on, think…_I was no good at things like this. But it wasn't as though Nick could do much of anything by himself at the moment, so it was up to me here. Great. Charter preserve us. Honestly, I was amazed that I had made it this far without getting caught and sent back home. Subtlety was definitely not my forte, which was the other reason I could never be a spy. Dad often told me that I was pretty perceptive when it came to people, but being a good "conspiracy theorist" would not be very helpful if I ever found myself pinned against a wall with a gun at my head.

I'd do it, though. Or I'd try. I was in too deep not to do _something_. I even had a bizarre sense of confidence here, even though I knew the slim odds of pulling this off. Maybe it was from the Dog. Maybe she was right and fate was somehow on our side. Or maybe I was just feeling confident because I was so angry. Nick had lost everything, aside from his sanity, and I was amazed that he still had _that._ But I had seen it in his eyes: guilt, and hopelessness, and pain.

_Hedge ought to be thanking his lucky stars that he's dead right now, because if he wasn't, I'd hunt him down and kill him myself. _

I was tempted to do the same to Uncle. Nick should have known better than to come back, and I'd just called him ten kinds of idiot for doing it, but what Uncle had done, and what he was undoubtedly planning to do, was despicable. Unfortunately, killing the Chief Minister wasn't going to get us to the Old Kingdom any faster.

The Old Kingdom…obviously, our ultimate destination. If we made it, we could never come back. Which was good for Nick: he had literally nothing to lose, and a new life waiting for him. For me, it wouldn't be quite so easy. I had a family I was leaving behind. It was painful to contemplate never seeing them again…But as hard as it was to admit it to myself, I was doing them no favors by staying. I was a fifth wheel at home, with no prospects to speak of.

My brothers and I had all gone to the local school where my parents both taught. Had we been a family of proper Sayres, I would be in my last year at Wyverly College right now, Ryan would be at Somersby, and Michael would be at the University of Corvere, where Nick ought to be right now. But we were anything but proper Sayres, and we couldn't afford that, let alone three separate university tuitions. Ryan had already accepted that fact, and he was looking into enlisting in the military as soon as he finished Sixth Form. Michael was lucky to be attending Uni at all; he had miraculously managed to scrape up a scholarship. I knew that wouldn't happen to me: my marks weren't bad, but they weren't outstanding, like Michael's had been. Besides, I was a _girl, and_ the daughter of the penniless, good-for-nothing, disowned-by-his-father Evan Sayre. I could almost hear the dean at the University of Corvere laughing as he reviewed my application.

What options did that leave me? Unless I could find a job somewhere, I'd have to marry young. That wouldn't be so terrible, provided I was with someone decent, and I would do it if I had to, but becoming a homemaker at seventeen did not sound particularly appealing to me.

_Or maybe I could join an abbey or something…_I almost laughed out loud as I pictured myself in a nun's habit, but I stopped when I remembered where I was.

No, I would try my luck in the Old Kingdom. I had always been fascinated with it, and for good reason. Technically, I was _from_ the Old Kingdom. At least, my true mother was from the Old Kingdom, if not my father, and I'd been born there. Of course I was curious.

So now, as per the request of a talking dog from my dreams, I was off to the Old Kingdom, to find my destiny and meet a prince. Hopefully.

***

Within minutes I was trudging down the dirty, sprawling streets of Corvere. I had only ever been to Corvere when we were making our obligatory rounds visiting the "other" Sayres, and those visits were few and far between. But, despite that, I _liked_ Corvere. It was big, bigger than any city I'd ever seen, and bigger by far than Bain or any other city in the north. Full of noise, and color, and pulsing with its own energy.

I resisted a strong urge to gape at the sheer height of the buildings hanging over me, or at the masses of people flooding the streets. I was disguised, and I had to act like I had every right to be here. I did my best to exude nonchalance and, well, masculinity, as I wandered through Corvere, searching for a hotel, lugging my suitcase through the crowd. I doubted that I blended in very well, as I was about two heads shorter than every man that I passed.

I realized that I didn't really know my way around Corvere, and that I probably should have brought that up with Nick before I left. _Too late now_. I still had several hours of daylight left to wander around, though, and I intended to put it to good use. It wouldn't be that hard to find a hotel in a city like Corvere.

The district in which St. Bartleby's was located was a higher-class district, and I could see a hospital and the offices for a physician, dentist, and optometrist, as well as an apothecary. There were several expensive houses and office buildings tucked between them. Though I hadn't seen one on my way here, I figured there was bound to be a hotel somewhere to accommodate the family and friends of patients, and decided that it was probably best to go on and book a room so I'd have someplace to go when it started getting dark.

The hotel was set on a corner about five blocks from the asylum. It was a nice brick place, with marble stairs out front and fancy wrought-iron accents here and there. There was even a concierge waiting outside. _Can I afford this?_ I wondered as I passed the concierge, who looked bored, and I entered the equally fancy lobby. I had brought all my money with me, and while it wasn't a small sum, it needed to last as long as it took to get to the Old Kingdom. Still, I didn't want to be caught alone at night in the city, so I resolved to book as cheap a room as I could manage.

"Name?" the equally bored secretary at the front desk asked me.

"Ryan Sayre. I need a room, um, just for tonight, something cost-effective."

The secretary raised his eyebrows at hearing the name "Sayre" and told me the rate for a cheap room. I winced at the sum, but nodded and pulled out my wallet as he handed me a key.

***

The room was small, windowless, and on the ground floor. When I got there, I locked the door and dumped my suitcase, coat, and hat on the bed. The oxford I was wearing was sticking to me: it was late summer and a bit hot to be wearing a wool coat. I opened the suitcase and started rummaging through it, trying to figure out what I still needed to buy. I pulled out the clothes I'd brought: a few blouses and skirts for myself in case my disguise didn't work out for long, and some old clothes of Michael's for Nick. Last time we'd visited his family, Nick and Michael had been around the same size, but that was a couple of years ago, and judging by the way Nick looked now, it was a good thing I'd thought to pack him a belt. But I hadn't brought shoes for him, so that was first on the shopping list for the day. I'd also need to stop by a grocery and an apothecary for food, first aid supplies, and anything else that might be useful for travel. Not that I knew exactly how we'd be traveling, or how long it would take, or how we could manage to not get arrested before we got anywhere near the Wall. Or, come to think of it, how on earth we would be able to get _across_ the Wall without getting shot down, _and_ manage to stay out of the way of various Dead things in the Borderlands once we did cross. Some rescue mission this was going to be.

I left the hotel several minutes later after eating the sandwich I packed. Unfortunately, the turkey didn't taste very good, having been stuffed into a suitcase all day in the middle of the summer. I'd need to find something a little less perishable than turkey sandwiches to bring with us. And something Nick could keep down, obviously. That pretty much limited our options to…soup.

It was late afternoon now, and the city glittered in the brilliant sunlight. I followed the winding streets through district after district, hoping that I'd remember the way back to the hotel before the sun set on me. I had Dad's revolver and a pen-knife in my pockets, but I didn't want to have to test my skills with them anytime soon.

I soon found myself in a district comprised of a long, broad street with closely-packed shops on either side and some market stalls here and there in the center. A sign marked it as Poplar Street. The place was not as polished as many other parts of the city, and I could tell that I had left the wealthier districts behind. It was so full of people that I doubted anyone would come near it in an automobile. This looked like a good place to start. There were some clothing stores on the right side of the street, so I headed that way. Eventually I came to a secondhand store that looked promising. Bells tinkled softly when I opened the door, rousing a clerk who had been dozing behind the front desk.

"Can I help you?" he yawned.

"Just looking," I muttered.

He shrugged and started wiping the counter with an old rag. I looked around: the place was rather shabby and dimly lit, and it smelled faintly of mothballs. The walls were covered by racks of worn clothing, both men's and women's. A tall shelf full of shoes stood against one wall. After a few minutes of searching this shelf, I found a pair of old brown shoes that looked like they might fit Nick. On my way back to the counter, I idly searched the racks, and picked up a few items that I decided would be useful: extra shirts and trousers and the like. I spent a few minutes looking at some dresses on one of the racks. I knew I'd have little use for dresses from now on, and most of them were old, but a few of them caught my eye, particularly a lilac one that really was lovely. I stood there for a few seconds, wanting badly to try the dress on at the very least. Eventually I gave in and went to take the dress off the rack, but when I did I saw another dress behind it that made me forget all about the one I was holding in my hand. It was all white and very plain, and it looked very much like a nurse's uniform. In fact, it looked _exactly_ like a nurse's uniform. _Well,_ I thought. _This could be quite handy. _

I pulled it off the rack and went to the front of the store, dumping everything on the counter. The clerk looked inquisitively at the strange collection of clothes in front of him, and then he counted up the sum. My heart sank. I would hardly be able to buy anything else we needed if this lot cost _that_ much.

Then I had an idea. A stupid, potentially dangerous idea, but an idea nonetheless. If it didn't work out, I reasoned, I did have a gun. But the clerk appeared to be in his twenties, and I did know how to work blonde hair and blue eyes to my advantage when necessary.

I tried my best to look flustered and embarrassed, and I removed my hat to run my fingers through my hair, giving it a subtle shake so that it would come unwound from its knot. His eyes got big, and I wasn't sure if it was just because I was a girl, or because my plan was working, or a combination of both. "Oh, um…I don't think…I don't think I can afford that. I'll just be on my way, sir. Sorry to trouble you." I looked down, fluttering my eyelashes a little, although I wasn't entirely sure if it would have quite the right effect from behind my glasses.

A few seconds passed. I could feel the clerk's eyes on me, and I wondered if he was looking at my Charter Mark. Or at the rest of me, which was hidden beneath my coat, although admittedly I didn't have much to boast of in regard to curves anyway. I waited a bit longer, staring down at my shoes. When he still didn't say anything, I sighed, picked up my hat, and started for the door.

"Wait, ma'am…"

_Excellent. _

[Longest chapter so far! Sorry the escape isn't in this chapter, but I thought you'd all like a peek into Anna's head. Next chapter we're back to Nick's head again, and I promise the escape will be all adventurous and stuff. If you can stick it out and be patient, I have some cutesy romantic stuff planned for Nick and Miss You-Know-Who-If-You-Paid-The-Least-Bit-Of-Attention-When-You-Read-Abhorsen in the later chapters. You can PM me for a preview, if you're impatient or a hopeless romantic (with the exception of Astarel who's seen it already). Chapter 8 is in-progress.]


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